Floyd Patterson vs Joey Maxim: Not all losses are equal.

“Just because you're paranoid doesn't mean they aren't after you.” Joseph Heller, Catch-22.

If we were living in New York back in 1954, we can agree on one thing. If we chose to spend an evening in front of the television on June 7, then at 9pm it would be Channel 2 to watch I Love Lucy. That could keep all the family happy.

The problem would come at 10pm. A choice would have to be made. One option would be to stay with Channel 2 to watch boxing’s Rookie of the Year, Floyd Patterson, in supposedly his toughest professional test so far against former champion Joey Maxim. Option two would be to flick over to Channel 5 to watch reigning world light-heavyweight champion, Archie Moore, in a non-title ten rounder against Bert Whitehurst.

Writing in the Brooklyn Eagle, Tommy Holmes had advice for television viewers who wanted to miss as little of the action of both fights as possible. He referred to a recent similar occurrence of simultaneous fight broadcasts.

“Possibly because Harry Balogh, the silver-tongued orator of the Eastern Parkway, uses longer words and more of them that Johnny Addie, the announcer at St. Nick, the Parkway show ran roughly four minutes later than the St. Nick proceedings.

So, after the fights were underway, you could catch two minutes of fighting on Channel 5, then switch to two minutes of fighting on Channel 7, see the tail ends of each scrap and hear the decision.”

He went on to advise that employing this tactic, “practically eliminates all commercials. At the same time, it captures at least two thirds of the ringside commentary at each fight.”

It would be safe to assume that Holmes would not have been able to envisage a time when modern viewers faced with the same dilemma would often have the luxury of access to multiple screens. If, indeed, one considers this to be a luxury.

It was not only New York fight fans staying at home that night who had a choice to make. Both fight cards were taking place in the city that evening. Patterson-Maxim was set for Eastern Parkway Arena, in Brooklyn, while Moore-Whitehurst was going ahead at the St. Nicholas Arena, in Manhattan. There had been a time when two fight cards on the same night in New York would not have been allowed. The local boxing commission would have stepped in to prevent the two boxing venues harming each other financially. That this was no longer the case was an indication of the growing influence of television. Even some 70 plus years ago, the importance of the live gate was beginning to diminish.

Whitehurst was seen as a marking time fight for Moore, who had a world title defence against Harold Johnson scheduled for little over a month later. Fight fans with an interest in the longer-range future of the light-heavyweight division would likely opt to pay closer attention to Patterson-Maxim.

A reporter for the United Press described Patterson-Maxim as, “the richest eight-round bout in history.”  Joey Maxim was on a guaranteed purse of $10,000, with Patterson set to earn half as much. The veteran Maxim was far more accustomed to fighting over longer distances but with Floyd still only 19 years old, the local commission forbade him from competing in bouts exceeding eight rounds until he passed his next birthday.

Patterson’s youthfulness had not escaped his opponent. The two fighters came face to face at a Press luncheon held at Jack Dempsey’s restaurant the week before the fight. As Maxim’s manager, Jack Kearns, circulated among the great and the good of the boxing writers, ordering champagne for various tables, Joey spoke to reporters about Patterson.

“I’m so used to seeing Walcott, Charles or Archie Moore coming out of the other corner, I’m liable to be confused when I see Patterson.”

“This kid has fast hands and looks like a good puncher from what I’ve seen of him on TV. I can’t let him get off because flurry punching is eye-catching. He’s a baby after what I’ve been up against.”

In boxing terms, Floyd Patterson really was a baby compared to the vastly more experienced former light-heavyweight champion. Born Guiseppe Antonio Beradinelli, Joey Maxim had heard the first bell in a professional ring 105 times, scoring 80 wins. He had turned professional back in January 1941, when Patterson was just 6 years old. In the last 18 months, Joey had gone a total of 45 rounds with Archie Moore; first losing his world light-heavyweight title to the Old Mongoose, then unsuccessfully attempting to win it back twice. That is a fistic education in itself. His bout prior to losing the title to Archie was the famous occasion when he had outlasted Sugar Ray Robinson in 104-degree heat at Yankee Stadium.

Given the depth of that résumé, facing a 19-year-old with a record of 13-0, over eight rounds, would hold no fear. This was, however, not just any 19-year-old novice and the bookmakers recognised that fact by making Patterson the 7-5 favourite. Floyd had won Olympic gold at the 1952 Helsinki Olympics as a middleweight before turning professional and scoring eight stoppage wins in his 13-fight unbeaten record.

Patterson had been mentored both as an amateur and professional by Cus D’Amato. D’Amato was fiercely independent, to the point of being accused of being paranoid, and was cautious with his matchmaking. By accepting the fight with Joey Maxim, he was moving his fighter into the big leagues. His belief was that his young prospect would be too much for the slipping veteran. While Maxim had proved beyond doubt his ability to travel the longer distances, he had a reputation in some quarters as a slow starter, so the eight-round distance could also favour Patterson. The match with Maxim would be the tenth time that Floyd had fought as a professional at the Eastern Parkway Arena. D’Amato was happier doing business there, rather than Madison Square Garden where he was wary of the malign influence of the sport’s powerbrokers.

Even after just thirteen fights, Floyd Patterson was considered one of the fastest and hardest punchers among the current crop of prospects. He knew what he would have to do to be successful against his more experienced opponent.

“Maxim is a smart, cautious fighter. I’ve got to get in there right away and try to out speed him. I’ve been told he’ll work from the inside. I’m going to prevent him from tying me up.”

After getting into trouble with the law as a youth, Patterson was sent by a juvenile court to reside and learn at the Wiltwyck School for Boys. He credited the school with turning his life around. Now, just a few years later, as a highly touted professional boxer, Floyd returned to Wiltwyck to set up a training camp for the biggest fight of his fledgling career. By the time he completed his camp, Patterson weighed in at 168lbs, nine pounds lighter than Maxim.

The Patterson-Maxim bout would take place just ten days before world heavyweight champion Rocky Marciano was scheduled to defend his title against Ezzard Charles at Yankee Stadium. While Floyd was still a very young man with plenty of growing to do, his fighting weight at 168lbs, any thoughts of sharing a ring with the likes of Marciano must have seemed fanciful.

If Cus D’Amato already felt that certain dark forces were conspiring against him, the official scoring of the Patterson-Maxim bout would have only served to intensify that belief. While all 11 ringside reporters scored the fight in favour of Patterson, at the end of the eight rounds, each of the three scoring officials called it for Maxim.

Referee Ruby Goldstein scored it 3-4 (one even), while judge Joe Eppy had it 3-5. The most eye-watering card came from Arthur Susskind, who had boxed professionally under the name Young Otto. He turned in a scorecard that read 1-7 in favour of Maxim. The only round he gave to Patterson was the fourth, which was the one that the Press, as well as his two scoring colleagues, agreed Maxim won.

Gene Ward, writing in the New York Daily News described the fight outcome as, “…what appeared to be the biggest robbery since Billy Graham was jobbed out of a title in his fight with Kid Gavilan in the Garden.”

The crowd of 2,350 in the arena responded to the verdict with a loud chorus of boos. Ward scored the fight 6-2 for Patterson, giving him the first, second, third, fifth, sixth and seventh rounds.

Patterson punched harder and faster than his older opponent, frequently driving him back to the ropes with combination punching. On at least four occasions, Maxim was staggered. Patterson had his biggest round in the sixth when he blasted Maxim with a left hook and a right to the head. For a moment it looked like Maxim might be headed for only his second inside the distance loss, but he managed to see out the round.

Despite the loss of his unbeaten record and what must have felt like a crushing blow, Patterson was remarkably philosophical. That attitude would be demonstrated time and time again throughout Floyd’s career.

“I think enough people disagreed with the decision to make it a good return match. He was catching me with jabs. Maybe they scored it that way. I took some but I think I landed more and the much harder punches.”

D’Amato was not quite so sanguine. He felt his fighter had been cheated out of victory. Floyd had not been beaten by Joey Maxim, but by sinister forces outside of the ring that were ruining the sport. As far as he was concerned, Patterson had been the aggressor, as well having landed the cleaner and more effective punches. The enraged manager threatened to lodge an official protest with the New York commission immediately. He did, but it came to nothing, and the result stood. According to the record books, the 11 newspaper men watching the fight all got it wrong and the three men paid to make it official got it right. The winners were Joey Maxim and, of course, Jack “Doc” Kearns.

Kearns had no interest in dwelling on such trivial matters as controversial scoring. He was already looking to the future. Maxim’s win, he announced, paved the way for another crack at Archie Moore’s world light-heavyweight title.

Given a couple of days reflection, the rancid stench of the outcome of the fight was still bothering Gene Ward at the Daily News. After reviewing the contest and attempting to be generous to Maxim, he still felt Patterson had a clear edge in a minimum of four rounds and how the officials could not see that, “remained a major mystery.”

When the verdict of the people who are paid to score a fight is so totally out of sync with everyone else who witnessed it, there appears to be only two possible explanations: incompetence or corruption. Ward was careful not to publish any outright accusations, but he made it clear what he saw as the problem.

“The more cynical of those who are criticising the verdict, point to Maxim’s strong connections.”

The “strong connections” alluded to was Kearns being, “a high-ranking muck-a-muck in the International Boxing Guild.”

Jack “Doc” Kearns was part of that influential club and Cus D’Amato was not. Joey Maxim was a “connected” fighter and Floyd Patterson was not. Was D’Amato paranoid? Maybe. But did that really mean they weren’t out to get him?

Kearns’ target for Maxim, Archie Moore, had his own ring assignment at the very moment that Floyd was winning but losing against Joey. Archie was already long enough in the tooth to know the dangers of leaving the outcome of a fight in the hands of the suits at ringside. By this point in his illustrious career, Moore already had 78 knockout wins on his record. He considered his bout against Bert Whitehurst at the St Nicholas Arena as just a tune-up for a scheduled title defence against Harold Johnson on 14 July.

Whitehurst was described as, “a pretty competent although not highly ballyhooed heavyweight.”  The Baltimore fighter came to the contest with Moore with a record of 18 wins from 21 fights, and having inflicted the first defeat on Tommy Jackson.

Moore dropped Whitehurst twice in the sixth round before the referee stopped the fight and declared Archie the winner. For the non-title bout, Moore had weighed in at 189lbs. With a light-heavyweight title defence scheduled in just over a month, one reporter noted that Archie, “figures to sweat more making the 175lb limit for that bout than he did in beating Whitehurst.”

While a defence of his light-heavyweight crown lay in his immediate future, Moore, already reportedly 37, announced after his win over Whitehurst that he intended challenging the Rocky Marciano-Ezzard Charles winner for the heavyweight title.

Four fighters in two fights on one night in New York city in the summer of 1954. While the television viewers could switch off and head to bed and the crowds in the arenas drifted away into the night, the fighters were left to ponder their futures.

Bert Whitehurst would take the work wherever he could get it, fighting four more times that year, twice in Boston, then Detroit and Milwaukee. He would box professionally another 42 times over the next ten years, and in very good company. He would win some and lose some, but he would nearly always go the distance, including losing two ten rounders against a peak Sonny Liston.

Joey Maxim, thanks to the generosity of the judges against Patterson, was theoretically closer to another shot at the title, but was his performance really evidence of an irreversible decline? Listen to your manager, Joey, and don’t read the papers.

Archie Moore would get his shot at Marciano’s world heavyweight title the following year. Despite flooring the champion briefly in the second round, Rocky came on strong to overwhelm and knock out Archie in the ninth. The painful defeat did not, however, put an end to Moore’s heavyweight journey.

Floyd Patterson had to cope with the pain of defeat for the first time against Maxim, but Cus would tell him that it wasn’t really a loss. He needed to get back in the ring quickly and put that pain behind him. Cus had him fighting five more times before the end of the year to regain the momentum and that winning feeling. The loss to Joey Maxim may have been thoroughly unjust and left the young Patterson questioning himself, but it preceded a phenomenal, and history making, winning run that would secure him a place among the heavyweight legends. What can feel like a catastrophe in the moment, can turn into just a footnote, given the passage of enough time.